Tepid Isolation
by TheMadHatter'sMind
Summary: Some lose hope and turn into boneys. Others strive to be different but are unable to become alive again. She's a girl who lost all faith but was too mentally awake to fall into the numbing depths of change. Having become a disparate being altogether, the solitary girl resides in a suffocating limbo, unsure of all but her cryptic dreams. He's an outcast. They're waging war. -Romance
1. Limbo at Dusk

**Chapter One**

_I try to use as many weird and wonderful words as possible. I want to be able to describe and innovate feelings you didn't even know you had._

**Limbo at Dusk**

The weirdo's rant

There are lots of different ways of coping with hating what you are.

You could kill yourself.

You could change yourself.

When a zombie loses all hope, they turn into a boney.

When a zombie want to change but still has regret, they turn into something else.

Like me.

I'm different from zombies.

I'm paler, if that's possible.

You would be too if all you ate was blood and water.

It's hard to maintain a complexion on that diet.

It also doesn't help that I rarely go out during daylight hours.

I hate the sun.

It illuminates all the misery in the world.

I like the dark because I'm so full of fear that I can't remember how distraught I am.

I imagine my heart beating, filling me with an inexplicable sense of clarity. As though I'm being shaken by every cell of my being. I want to feel my place in the World. I want to know I'm here. Sometimes I'm not sure if I've dreamt myself up or not.

The closest I get to that feeling is when I watch illumination filter out and fade.

My favourite time of day is dusk.

The sun dies over the world of futility and becomes my playground instead.

All mine.

I'm like a pitiful queen who reigns over nothing but shadows.

I'm alike to what I was, but there are a few factors that make me unique.

I can run, unlike zombies, but I can barely feel the wind blowing against me.

I can talk, although I have a bit of a lisp concerning my teeth.

They're not necessarily longer than normal, but I've worn them into a point and I can whistle through the gaps.

I can think, but that's a curse.

It keeps me somewhat human and tempts me with hope; only to remind me that I'm a freak. Monster. Undead. Predator.

Even though the people I bite don't turn into anything. Or maybe they do. They seem fine to me, but I don't watch them for very long.

The zombies can change and accept life again. I'm stuck in a putrid limbo; I'm neither, I'm nothing.

I don't have a heartbeat but I can feel heartache.

I hate the sun.

It forces me to see what I can't grasp.

The rays hit me and it hurts.

Physically _hurts_ me.

Light so pure it seethes me with guilt.

I want to talk to someone.

I'm so lonely I miss people I've never met.

I dream of people I've never seen.

They say those who you see in dreams, you've met sometime in your life.

Everyone in my dreams faces me, watches me, but has no eyes, no face, no breath, no warmth. I just stand in the middle of these _things_.

Waiting.

Waiting for one of them to touch me.


	2. The Blurred Face of Disempowerment

**Chapter Two**

**The Blurred Face of Disempowerment**

Confessions of a Outcast

Most zombies have moved into the humans' city.

Some have stayed behind for no other reason than to stay the same.

Some people would kill for change and some would die avoiding it.

It's an unsustainable way of life, though, because they're living off of criminals and boneys. They're going to revert back one day. How pointless.

It's hypocrytical to judge them since all I really do is sleep and observe.

Every so often I'll bite someone, but I avoid it. At least I can sometimes pretend that I'm human.

I've often considered going to the city beyond the immediate skyline, but I don't know how. Obviously I know that I could walk over and join their little utopia; except I can't. There's some weird feeling in me that stops my body from progressing along the dusty motorway, as if I'm leaving behind some immensely important gem that I could'nt live without. I know nothing like that exists, or maybe it does and I can't remember it. I wish I could understand what my subconscious is trying to remind me of.

I probably knew once but traded in the fact for a shot of emotion.

It's addictive, really.

When zombies eat their victim's brain, they relive their memories. When I bite someone, I feel what they feel, or felt at a moment in their life.

Nostalgia, depression, anger, jealously, love, terror.

In that one moment I temporarily steal a fragment of their being.

The most frustrating thing is that I'm not even acknowledged as existing.

No one's ever remembered me.

It's like I just didn't do anything.

Why is 'being' so difficult?

The second a human child is born, they start 'being'.

They become a part of so many peoples' lives.

Irreplaceable. Precious.

I don't even know where I came from. Every time I live someone else's memory, one of mine disappears. I'm okay with that, because I don't want them. I've only got bad ones left. I just see a woman, she resembles me a bit so I guess she's my mother. It's hard to tell with all the blurriness. She's crying, sobbing. She won't look up at my eyes no matter how many times I will her. She's leaning over me, her hands covering her face. I can't say anything, and I can feel this burning sense of frustration in the back of my throat. I loathe myself. I feel like I'm some kind of bomb that keeps imploding in on itself. It's restricting and the memory drives me mad.

I hate it.


	3. Backwards is the New Forwards

**Chapter Three**

**Backwards is the New Forwards**

Lurch of Contact

If you watched my life backwards, it's about a girl so lonely she regains all her memories and finds a place she belongs.

The closest I've got to that is the room I stay in. I wouldn't call it my home because I always feel like I'm intruding despite there being no one near me for miles. The zombies who live away from the New City reside at an old hotel and apartment complex near the airport; I suppose that area holds some significance to them.

The humans and changing zombies don't really come here; there's no need to. Sometimes teenagers will visit for the thrill and that's where I come in.

Humans can be so stupid sometimes.

Just because you live in harmony with something doesn't mean you can let your guard down. If it wasn't for a pretentious assumption of safety, I'd probably be dead.

Humans are incredibly attracted to shiny objects and music.

All it takes is for one to go into a room by themselves, and I've got them. By the time the door opens again, I'm gone and they're passed out.

I always make it look like they've tripped up and hit their head, but it would still be suspicious. And yet no one has ever investigated.

I rather be killed at the hands of another before my time than die alone.

All I'm good for is moping around my area and occasionally, when I feel up to it, running around the jungle gym that is the construction site down an alley a couple of minutes away from where I spend most of my time.

Tonight's one of those nights.

When the moon's out I'll climb to the top and wait until the fuming crown of reddish gold seeps into my dark haven and lures me back.

Despite being dead, a severe injury would cause immense harm so I can only climb when there's enough light to see.

I know the path to the top as well as I know myself; not that well.

I cautiously edge up bars and poles, extremities grasping around slick, icy shards of metal that help me ascend to my solitary throne.

It's beyond me why I keep myself here.

I think it's because I have this faint wish that someone will find me and save me.

I'm a romantic corpse.

How pathetic.

The problem with being undead but mentally conscious, is that it's often that you'll sleep for days and not realise.

It rained yesterday, apparently, and due to my groggy demeanour I was unable to see the small pool of water on the plank I grabbed.

Suddenly, all my weight shifts to my head and my stomach.

A sickening, lurch convulses through me.

I see the sky.

I see my hand swoop in front of me.

Except it's not my hand.

And it grabs me.


	4. Near Eradication

**Chapter Four**

**Near Eradication**

Curiosity of Another Individual

I hang in suspension, breath hitched despite the fact I never need to breath anyway. Old habits are hard to kick.

I don't feel any warmth on my wrist, but something's there.

I was saved by someone.

I glanced up cautiously.

I hadn't spoken for so long; I wasn't sure if I could even make noise anymore. I had avoided talking because I was afraid sound would shatter my precarious existence somehow, as though I was some sort of forbidden creature, unwanted by nothing and everything.

It suddenly occurred to me why I had stayed by myself.

I was afraid of rejection.

I looked human and had human attributes, so I couldn't fit in with the zombies.

I attacked people and was dead, so I couldn't live alongside humans.

It was unlikely that I could be cured, too.

The hand gave me a squeeze.

Don't look up.

Don't look up.

Drop me.

Let me die.

Don't notice me.

I'm not here.

A gravelly voice broke my sequence of aversion.

"Are... You? Okay?"

Zombie.

In that second, I experienced a moment I had experienced long before, when I had fed on a woman of about thirty and relived her wrenching pain of having someone she loved die. I couldn't see who, but they were young and fragile looking. Maybe it was her child. I felt the way her heart writhed as it dawned on her that she would never be able to feel what she took for granted everyday. Even though I hadn't bitten anyone, I was aware of my own emotion. My body had remembered and was now reliving the agonising pang throughout my flesh.

Why's my face wet?

Why's my vision blurring; am I dreaming again?

Ah, that must be it.

Or maybe this is death?

The same voice.

"Why, crying? Hurt?"

Crying?

What the hell is that?

I reach up with my free hand and touch my cheek.

It's not raining, yet there's water droplets on me. Lukewarm and stinging.

It's coming from my eyes.

I've seen the humans do it, when I scare them.

I'm suddenly very aware of how close I was to eradication.

I feel _scared_, _jarred_.

I'm _feeling_.

I'm pulled to my usual sitting spot by the owner of the voice and according to my peripheral vision, it's a male in his late teens. He's got mismatching eyes; one blue and the other too dark to make out the exact colour. His hair is messy and a fair brown with streaks of reddish-yellow. He's wearing dark clothing;black jeans and a patterned black and white shirt underneath a tight black jacket. His boots go above his ankles and have worn-out silver buckles on the sides.

I coax myself into meeting his unrelenting stare.

We sit there for a while; the curious corpse and the humanoid undead.


	5. Escapism in the Form of Letters

**Chapter** **Five**

**Escapism in the Form of Letters**

TN: Aiden is an Irish name meaning 'warm'. Purposeful irony. It's pronounced 'eye-den'. 'Ai' is also Japanese for 'love'.

Fickle Views Under Temptation

"Name... Your, name?"

One of the few questions I had no clue how to answer. I didn't even have a guess ready, so I sat there, stupidly gazing into the hazy eyes of the boy in front of me.

He raised his eyebrows as an indication of him wanting me to say something, but I was at a loss as to answer.

I shook my head.

That's all I could do.

He responded by shakily asking me of I was scared.

Did he think I was a human?

I suppose he had no reason to think otherwise, but still. I didn't exactly look the part, what with the bloodstains and all.

It pained me to look at him directly; his eyes were filled with a naïve interest that made me wish I could remember how to speak.

He didn't give up, instead telling me his name.

Aiden.

I forced my mouth open and sighed, attempting to converse.

"Eh, ah-"

I looked over at him, willing him to repeat his name.

He did so, and I carefully watched how his lips moved to create the sounds I had apparently long forgotten how to make.

"Ah-ee-deh. Ahdehn. Ai-d-d-eh?"

The noises were so clear in my mind but my body was failing me.

He addressed me again.

"You don't... Can't, remember to, talk?"

I shook my head.

"You can read?"

Surprisingly, I knew I could. There was little else to do but sit amongst rotting books in stores and flip through endless pages of knowledge, opinions and experiences. Books were always magical for me; in a good way and bad. It was because of them that I became this way because they taught me how to empathise with myself, and how to imagine. When the time came for me to either change into a human or boney, I suppose I was too conflicted because I had the attitude of the fallen with the hope of redemption.

I thought for a bit.

Just how old was I?

I had read every book in my area, seen buildings crumble with age, watched nature slowly creep it's way up architecture.

How long would that take?

Days? Months? Years? Decades? Surely not _centuries_, although some books were terrible enough to give the impression that the font size got smaller after every page.

I jolted myself back to reality and nodded.

"Do you live.. Here, by yourself?"

Nod.

"Few of us, be in building, near. He can teach, you, to..." Aiden pointed to his lips.

I had no idea who 'he' was and the prospect of being scrutinised by strangers was less than appealing.

"We have... Books?"

Lead me, zombie boy.


	6. The Dance of Sound Deep in Wonderland

**Chapter Six**

**The Dance of Sound Deep in Wonderland**

Progress and Learning

Someone once said that you die twice.

Once when you stop breathing, and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time.

By those standards, I died hundreds of sunsets ago.

The worst thing is, I watched myself die both times, in those dreams of mine.

Aiden had led me past the bookshop I used to visit and into what used to be a storage room for a school.

There were broken shelves of books, tables, chairs, writing boards and toys scattered about the floor. There was a group of four zombies at the far side of the room; one very human in appearance and one rotting and dark like a boney. The other two resembled Aiden, gaunt, stiff expressions trying to break out into emotion and speech.

The human-like zombie was writing letters and words on a cracked blackboard and calling out how to pronounce them. His class of three groaned a similar noise to the one he made before turning their heads to look at me.

The improvised teacher smiled and stepped forward.

"Hello, how are you?"

I've never understood why zombies love that phrase. He continued.

"You're a human, yes? Aiden led you here?"

I flinched at how easy the man found it to say the name I struggled so earnestly with.

Aiden answered for me, telling him that I could not speak. I opened my mouth, desperately trying to explain what I was despite even me not knowing.

"Ahh ah-" I am. "Noah ih h..um.. In." Not a human.

There was a pause as my barely tangible sentence was pondered and eventually the teacher made a face that said he understood.

"Not human? What are you? Well, I suppose that doesn't matter. I'll help you to talk. Can you read? Do you have a name?"

I loathed the onset of questions I couldn't respond to. I glanced up at Aiden with a look that said 'shut him up'.

"No, name. Can... Read."

The next couple of hours consisted of the three zombies from the class and Aiden leaving the storage room, probably looking for food although it's beyond me what human-like zombies even ate, and the other reading a book out loud to me, pointing to every word he was reading so I would get used to the sound letters made when they danced together in language.

He read to me about the somewhat twisted adventures of a girl who rejects her own world and gets lost in a dream world. Except it's not a dream world. It's real, but she believes it's not. The world is filled with speech and colour, people and animals, castles and forests, music and terror.

I empathised with her as well as someone who doesn't feel could. I also thought she was lucky to have woken up at the end, back in her original world of comfort and belonging. Maybe that'll happen to me.

I'll become her.

I'm 'Alice'.


	7. Deteriorated Hope

**Chapter Seven**

**Deteriorated Hope**

The Outsider's Regret

Aiden and the others returned as the eerie glow of daytime invaded the cracks and openings of the feeble storage room. I was beginning to recognise and associate language with the letters I loved to read so much. I carried on muttering to myself as all but the boney-looking zombie went to sleep. I didn't have to and I was uncomfortable being unconscious around the other sleepless creature as the others exploited their ability to dream.

It stared at me.

For hours.

I kept on talking with myself, paying close attention to my own voice.

The thing growled. I looked up. It was clawing at its own face, ripping off chunks of grey flesh as it writhed against the brick wall it was leaning against. Shreds of skin caught on the uneven surface and made me feel sick.

Its eyes rolled back into its head and fell to the floor with a dry thump.

I didn't have a heartbeat, but I probably looked more appetising than a bunch of moving corpses.

It just stood there for a minute, me not breathing and it smelling the air and oozing drool from its clamped fangs.

Boneys rarely attacked zombies, but it was well known that they didn't like outsiders.

There I was.

The epitome of an outsider.

Shit.

It lunged forward, hissing and raising its left claw above its disgusting head in a preemptive position to strike me.

Anyone would assume that, due to my frail and milky form, I'm not exactly the strongest creature.

This is true to a certain extent.

I used to be vicious; seizing my prey with the power of bitterness within me, slicing through beings and bodies as easily as I could to water.

Alas, just like how my speech deteriorated, my strength decayed.

I couldn't beat a boney. _He_ might be able, though.

Sharp breath.

Gather courage.

"AIDEN!"

I jumped to the left the avoid being killed but I suppose I was too slow.

I fell to the floor like an abandoned doll, head hitting two surfaces of concrete as I descended.

I could still see out of one eye and I watched lethargically as Aiden reluctantly fought one of his friends to the death. I heard a clear voice, which I recognised as my teacher's, state how it was near impossible to give hope to those who reject it.

I noticed Aiden slouch over himself even more so than usual in disappointment.

Then a dark blur crept into my limited vision.

Like some kind of changeling, unconsciousness snatched me away from my observations and into my usual state of dream-like embodiment.


	8. Sorrowful Silence of an Introvert

**Chapter Eight**

**Sorrowful Silence of an Introvert **

Desecration of Temptation

It must be nice to have people love you. I think it's one of those things people take for granted. Just knowing that you could call someone's name and have them rush to your side is wonderful, especially if that person means something to you.

Having had no one but the tormented woman in my memory for company, I couldn't help but be grateful for the unnecessary medical attention I was receiving from the remaining members of the small zombie ensemble.

I didn't have it in me to tell them I could only die if my head was ripped off. I allowed myself to be selfish for once, accepting their doting attitudes and care. The impact of my fall triggered some old thoughts that I had forgotten; I suppose that means they're all back there but I couldn't access them. I should've felt glad that they were so close, but instead I hated the fact that they essentially taunted me by being out of reach.

I could form sentences if I thought for long enough, carefully guiding my mind over the form and meaning of sounds and letters.

I had also learned about the other zombies in the troupe.

The teacher was called Andrew. He was above average height, had thick dark red hair, patient brown eyes and looked like he died when he was in his mid-forties. The female was a a blonde woman in her twenties, Melanie, who seemed to resent me for no particular reason. She had a somewhat chubby, short figure, grey eyes and a round face. I like to think of her as a little bitch of a pixie.

I disliked her.

The final member was a Japanese guy who looked a few years older than Aiden, but it was hard to tell, what with the everlasting death and all.

He went by the name Eiji, which apparently means peace or eternity. He could speak quite well but chose not to.

Typical introvert.

He would randomly get up and walk out of the storage room, gone for hours and returning looking as gaunt as ever.

No one asked what he did or where he went. You just got the feeling that you would break him, _shatter_ him if you did.

I would have described him as a China doll made from sorrow. Ready to shatter at any given point but never actually fracturing.

Andrew had explained what the group was; a band of dysfunctional zombies who, like me, were trapped in a limbo of temptation and redemption. The four were unable to transform into their living beings again but refused to desecrate their humanity by succumbing to becoming a boney or an unanimated zombie. This made me wonder what I was. I'm an outlier, an anomaly.

Things like me, we feel vulnerable.

_All the time_.

We hate to be judged. We don't conform to general expectations, but we want to so _desperately_ that we envy those who do to the brink of our own inevitable insanity. What makes it worse is that the normal people can't understand why we're so tormented, anguished, distraught. They sneer. We disintegrate.

We snap.

They scream.

They're gone.

We're mad.


	9. Sophisticated Infestation

**Chapter Nine**

Sophisticated Infestation

Glimmer of Revenge

I find it surprising how it's always the good people who spiral out of control and suffer at the hand of their own futile antics.

Eiji killed someone.

We found him sobbing over a corpse in an alleyway. He resembled the woman in my dreams, which jarred me.

Who was she? What was she doing to me?

I didn't feel like thinking about it.

The person he killed came from the New City, NC for short.

She looked like a scout of some sort. She had heavy armour on and weapons strapped to her bulky frame. It was rare for anyone to cross the horizon, let alone officially.

I knew we could find out what was going on by eating her brain, but saying that would have been more than insensitive seeing as though Eiji was having a breakdown.

He stuttered out an explanation. It was then that I realised there's too the group were frowning. They were furious.

Andrew spoke up.

"The whole point of our existence is to not revert back into what we were, Eiji. Why did you do this? The humans are going to investigate! What will they do when they find us, huh? A small pack of zombies unable to change? They'll _kill_ us! Why wouldn't they!? We don't even know what she was here for; we might've been able to ask but not now-"

I pushed the speaker slightly indicating I wanted him to stop. Eiji was shaken up and I didn't like the look of the scout anyway. Intuition told me that we should get out of there. _Now_.

I grabbed Eiji and Aiden, pulling them as I sprinted out of the small space.

Andrew and Melanie limped after us, leaving the detonating corpse behind.

Back at the storage room, the explosion echoed as I told everyone to sit down and let me explain.

"Woman, sent by the... City. Something is wrong. Must. Be. No one ever, comes. Here. Eiji, did you, eat?"

He nodded meekly, raising his head to show specs of brain at the corner of his mouth. Andrew looked concerned. His face filled with dread.

"That's not nearly enough to keep her dead!" He cried, hands in the air. "She'll come back to life! I mean, sure she blew up but I'm like this now and I was in a plane crash. Eiji, we can only hope she blew to bits." Andrew noticed my confusion and elaborated. "You see, Alice, a person killed by a zombie will only turn into a zombie if their brain isn't eaten. However, if only a tiny part is eaten, they'll still become undead because losing such a small amount doesn't make enough of a difference. If that explosion wasn't enough, we've got a bitter zombie on our hands. Eiji, what did you see when you ate that bit? Anything important?"

Eiji nodded and opened his mouth.

"NC is... Expanding." He started, voice breaking slightly. "She was sent to... Clear the area."

Andrew responded. "What does 'clear the area' mean?"

"Get rid of... previous residents."

Ah, human nature. They'll do anything to infest their way of life.


	10. Resurfacing Humanity

**Chapter Ten**

Resurfacing Humanity

The Route Away From Malice 

The five of us sat in silence for hours, waiting for something to happen. The suspense was almost worse than what could have been the outcome yet no one dared to even twitch. I hadn't slept for days, nor had I eaten. Aiden had sidled up to me sometime about dusk and he sat at arms length, every so often tilting his head to look at my features. Night came and still no one flinched, let alone talked. Aiden pushed himself closer until our shoulders were touching and I gave in to the gesture and allowed myself to sleep.

Same dream as always.

I can see myself in the middle of a crowd of faceless people. Their shoulders are blurred all the way to their heads.

Except this time it's different.

To my left, I see Aiden. To my right, I see Andrew, Eiji and Melanie. They're silent but smiling. The woman is still crying in the middle; hands permanently shielding her face from me. I can't move but for once I don't feel like I have to. Four pairs of eyes on me, one gaze warmer than the rest.

A ferocious echo shattered my comfort and kidnapped me from my alternate reality. I woke to see a a charred arm, mainly consisting of bone being held together by strips of red tendon and flaking skin protruding through the rusted metal door. It bent and started searching for the handle as Aiden grabbed my hand and told me that we had to leave. I quickly picked up '_Alice and Wonderland'_ and helped Aiden follow the others out a window. Aiden insisted on me going before him and as I helped him through from the outside, I caught sight of the intruder forcing its way through the broken door. I recognised the uniform she was wearing; her weapons and heavy armour. Her left arm was burned severely and her clothes were blackened. I deduced that the bomb was a small one, positioned in her left palm. She had a glimmer of malice showing in her expression.

The five of us bolted down the alleyway behind the storage room as quickly as four zombies and a half-asleep unknown could. Andrew opened a thick metal cover on the ground and told us to go in.

The sewer hadn't been used in a few decades and was in a surprisingly presentable state. The moat in the centre of the circular corridor was filled with remnants of boneys and rainwater. The curved ceilings were coated with different colours and shades of moss and pulsating shrubs.

Aiden reached out and held my hand as Melanie and Eiji started making their way down the narrow pathway. Andrew jumped in and fixed the cover as the sound of gunshots from afar penetrated our escape route.

"Come on! What are you two standing around fo-"

Andrew caught sight of our entwined hands and grinned. Another emotion surfaced within me. This one from when I experienced a boy's first date. I felt uncomfortable but happy and found it hard to tear my vision away from the floor.

Aiden pulled me gently and we began our purposeful transfer away from my residency.


	11. Diminished Birsdong

**Chapter Eleven**

**Diminished Birdsong**

The Start of a Massacre

None of us asked how Melanie knew the route inside the sewers so well. We were willing to quell our naturalistic curiosity for a chance at survival. She led us for a few days along juts of brick and concrete until we came to a large space with four tunnels. Hunger and irritation spawned behind our fixed expressions, cabin fever apparently affecting the dead as badly as it did the living. I could see hail occasionally drop through a flaky grating above the left tunnel. It was winter. I could sense a breeze slipping through from the dusky outside carrying an ominous silence along with it. Where did the birdsong go?

Melanie faced us, very much enjoying her dominant role.

"Four paths. Left to NC. Next one to dead... End. This one," she pointed to the tunnel second to the right, "I don't know. Right one to zombie's place."

Andrew piped up.

"We're all hungry and this decision isn't a small one. We'll stay here until we choose where to go. We'll climb out the grating and see what's out there; hopefully some food. Otherwise we're going to have to chance it and move on."

Aiden had stubbornly held my hand the entire journey, refusing to let go even at awkward narrow paths and meter high ceilings. I pretended to be indifferent towards to act, but squeezed a little tighter every so often to show I didn't hate it. We barely spoke, but there was no pressure to do so.

The two of us sat against the brick, oblivious to the same pulsating shrubs I had seen upon entering the sewer slowly manifesting themselves near Aiden's shoulder. Unbeknownst to him, the fern latched onto the material by his neck and began piercing through the cloth by secreting a liquid through their microscopic mouths.

Andrew called everyone to him and he smashed the feeble grating before helping us reach the unexplored outside.

I stood outside, watching the individual pieces of crystalised water fall upon my sordid skin, unchanging as there was no warmth to change their state. Aiden stood close to my back, fingers once again entagling themselves in mine while the other three from our group joined us. As usual, Andrew took it as his responsibility to give us an explaination of our status.

"We can't be sure of our own whereabouts, nor that of the scout. Whether she'll stay at our old base is irrelevant. This is a new area so it would be better to split into pairs to look for resources. I'll go by myself. We'll meet back here in..." He pointed at a large, dull clockface on the side of a collosal grey brick building. "In two hours."

Aiden pulled me towards the architecture, leaving the other to cater for themselves.

Having once been used as a Univerity, we were quick to discover a small supply of canned human food. My companion broke our silence.

"We... The others and I... Trying to become more like the humans. Reply less on... our instincts?"

I nodded, wondering back to the last time I ate, which was before I climbed the scaffolding. I could feel one of the most basic urges, hunger, slowly glaze over my reason. I contemplated the merits of adapting my food source. It seemed peculiar to consume what my aliment did. I felt guilt surge through my thoughts as I shyed away from the guileless, mismatching eyes that watched me so tentatively. I wondered what he would think of me feeding off of humans, innocent ones at that.

More guilt.

I'm sickening.

Aiden took my right hand in his and rested my palm on his knees before placing his chin on the back of my outstretched extremity.

"Please don't... Worry. Eat something. I'm here. It'll be ok."

I hadn't heard those words in so long.

It'll be ok.

Maybe not now, but eventually.

After I coaxed myself into eating, we looked around the interior of the derelict building and finally made our way to the top floor. All we had found on the way were chemicals, textbooks, furniture and graffiti.

Upon opening an oak door, the two of us found ourselves in a dusty observatory looking out at the now murky sky. Aiden torpidly lay on the damaged recliner that pointed at the large cracked glass above our heads. We lingered inside, him facing upwards and me with my back to the milky glow of exuberant stars, tracing my name over and over with my finger to the wall.

Aiden's elated gaze shook me out of my stupor but within seconds of us exchanging bashful smiles, my companion's expression twisted into an anguished countenance as the fern began searing his skin. He grabbed my wrist with one hand and held the other to his left shoulder. His eyes flittered as the pressure on my arm faded.


	12. Iridescent Parasite

**Chapter Twelve**

**Iridescent Parasite and the Beginning of a Chase**

Wait For Me

It felt as though my entire being had been pulled towards the Earth, gravity suddenly coursing through my nerves like the weight of all the guilt in the world.

"Aiden?"

Vunerability latched onto me, paralysing my movement.

"Aiden? You said... It would... Be okay in the... End, right? Aiden?"

He slumped against the fabric, his shirt falling slightly to reveal the luminescent invader that had latched to the brunette.

Having extended my arm, my hand hovered precariously above the lurching mass of toxic nature. As my palm neared, the centre rose up, oozing towards my presence. I drew my arm back, instinctual concern encompassing my curiosity. It spawned over Aiden's skin, growing and throbbing, wheezing faintly as it multiplied.

I recognised it as the maize coloured moss growing on the walls of the sewer, except now there were clusters of violet spread across the clump of parasite like a splatter of infestation.

For the first time in a long while, I couldn't gather my thoughts. Aiden had led me to where I was, he was the one to relentlessly stay by me, quelling all sense of inferiority or panick that may have arose in the terrain I found myself in. I was abruptly very aware of how small I was. The stars, which had illuminated interest now mocked me with their brilliance. The light felt so pure it hurt. I didn't want to be able to see what I couldn't handle.

Aiden's eyes opened towards me, smiling through his feverish blur.

"Smile?"

I did so, unable to deny his delerium. He was relying on me.

I would fix this.

I could fix this.

"I'll be back soon... Aiden. Wait for me."

Those three words shifted responsbility onto me. He trusted me.

I sprinted out of the room and down two flights of stairs, arriving on the second floor landing. There were, from memory, six rooms in that corridoor.

One of them was a labratory.

Upon opening the second door on the left, I was greeted by metal stacks of spilled or dubious looking liquids with faded hazard labels accompanied by various sizes and colours of solids suspended in oil. Crossing to the far side of the room, I looked out the window to see Eiji, Melissa and Andrew in the yard outside. I was about to call out to them when I saw an unfortunately familiar figure crawl out from behind an open gate.

She had found us.

She was here.

I smashed the window with my fist, ignoring the protests from my now splintered hand before gathering air to warn my comrades.

_"SHE'S HERE! RUN!"_


	13. Improvised Sanctuary

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Improvised Sanctuary**

The Barrier and Developing Independance

They stood, motionlessly, processing my outcry. Andrew was the first to realise the meaning behind my warning and spun around to spot the metal-clad figure bounding towards the small group.

Andrew pushed Eiji and Melanie in the direction of the bridge further up the street.

He stood his ground.

As Melanie and Eiji cleared the area as fast as two undead could, the scout limped over, salivating as she clumsily drew a butterfly knife from the black leather strap on her thigh.

_"ANDREW!"_

I looked around the labratory for weapons I could throw towards the scene in the courtyard. Grabbing various liquids from the open drawers next to me, I flung three glass bottles of concentrated H2SO4 towards the woman. Two flasks shattered around her legs, while the last hit her arm, spilling acid onto her armour and charred, vunerable skin. She let out a piercing noise as Andrew kicked her knife from her hand. Picking it up, he lashed out, slicing through the frayed skin stretched around the scout's windpipe. She struck Andrew back before he ran after Eiji and Melanie, leaving the woman to suffer alone.

Andrew caught my eye.

"Meet us here in two days! We'll hide somewhere, you do what you like. Don't worry about us, keep safe."

Then he was gone.

She was there.

I ducked down, eyeing her erratic movements as she hovered below the shadow of the University, engulfed in the obscuring darkness.

She shot her head up to where I was, scouring for any signs of activity. I briefly observed the manic glints in her yellow-tinted eyes before edging away from my position and proceeded to bolt down the remaining flights of stairs.

Arriving at the ground floor landing, I set about shutting as many windows as I could without alerting the feral scout of my whereabouts. I shifted towards the door, desperately aware of the scratchings from the other side of the slightly ajar double slab of wood and metal.

With a bottle of acid in one hand and my other outstretched, I lept forwards to close one of the only barriers between our improvised sanctuary and the vengeful scout. I could feel the woman's pounding on the door echo through my body as I pushed with a strength I had been holding back on for years. I wouldn't allow her to break through one of the only things preventing her infiltration into the building.

I made a mental note to ensure all likely openings were closed before I returned to the top floor.

Aiden.

I quickly shut the lock on the door and made my way up to the observatory, oblivious to the fact that I had left the back door on the ground floor open.

Aiden was panting heavily, arm covering his vision as smokey clouds rose from his mouth into the murky air. He didn't even respond when I called his name.


End file.
